Sing Me to Death
by Joe-John the Black Blonde
Summary: All Tomoki wants is to be loved. He doesn't care by who, he just needs someone to be there. For the majority of his life, he had been neglected by anyone and everyone around him. After the passing of his mother, he had been officially alone. But maybe now, after sixteen grueling years of life, he'll be able to find someone to love him after death.
1. Chapter 1

**So basically, this story follows my character, Tomoki, after his death. This is, in fact, a Bleach fanfic, despite the lack of anything Bleach in this chapter. This chapter mainly serves as an introduction to my OC. This will be a romance story, but so far the person I plan on putting him with is undecided. And yes, I do plan on putting him with a male character. So if you don't like yaoi, this story probably isn't for you. Just a warning.**

**But I hope you all enjoy the first chapter~ Of course, reviews are always lovely to receive.**

* * *

Imagine the sweetest lullaby in the world, sung by the softest and most angelic of voices. Hear the highs and lows of every note, pouring into you like silver water. For every syllable, go up an octave, then stop. Allow the pause to settle the chills running down your spine. Then for the next measures, go down three octaves; stop. Lower the octave. Up three. Down three. Then repeat. Simple. Slow. Powerful. Majestic crescendos, decrescendos and legatos. Beautiful. Soft. Melancholy. Now listen even closer. Listen so closely that you're not listening at all. You're feeling. The music runs in your body, flows through your veins, composes your blood.

This is how Tomoki felt about his mother's lullaby. His mother would sing to her steel blue-haired child every night before bed. From the night of his birth, to the night of his tenth birthday, she would sing. She would intone with perfect pitch the melody she created to soothe and place her darling son to sleep. How he loved his mother's voice...

In grade school, it was the only thing he would look forward to after a long, stressful day. He hated school. He hated his classmates. Feared them, even. Countless times he begged and pleaded with his parents to be home-schooled. To even attempt to teach himself the basics of math, science, history and literature. Anything to escape the taunts and mocks of all the other little boys and girls who laughed and pointed their chunky little fingers at the small boy who would rather sit and read a book rather than play kickball in the yard.

His father wouldn't hear it. When Tomoki had told him about his problems in school and how he suggested they fix it, he simply scoffed and knelt down to flick him in his forehead.

"Home-school? The Hell you wanna do that for? A couple a bullies? Listen, Tomoki, you better start sticking up for yourself. I didn't raise a little girl. I raised a boy."

Tomoki looked down at his sneakers, a slight tilt in his eyebrows. _Liar. _He didn't raise him. He was simply there. As far as he was concerned, he never wanted a kid, therefore everything that had to do with his son was at his wife's expense. The only reason he even bothered to show up the night of his birth was to keep face. Tomoki didn't know why he even bothered to talk to him. Maybe because his mom wasn't home.

Some nights, while lying in bed and staring up at his ceiling, he would ask his mother:

"Why doesn't Father love me?"

And like every other time he asked a question like this, she would brush his bangs aside and kiss his forehead, asking if he would like to hear a song. She asked this as if she sung any other song, or as if he had gotten tired of his lullaby. But he never did. So of course he didn't deny to hearing his favorite nighttime tune, and drifted off to sleep.

On the night of his tenth birthday, he remembered lying in bed, eyes closed. He had a content smile on his face as his mother began their nightly ritual. However, before she could reach the second verse, his father rapped the door harshly to silence her.

"That boy is too old for lullabies. How do you expect him to grow up if you keep treating him like he's five? No wonder he's such a little pussy." He beckoned her out of the room with the slight tilt of his head and walked off, grumbling under his breath. Tomoki's mother sighed heavily, looking back at him with a sad smile. She leaned down and kissed his forehead with soft, apologetic lips and whispered a final, "Happy Birthday, Tomo," before walking out, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. He hid his disappointment until she was well down the hall and out of hearing range.

Starting from the very beginning, Tomoki opened his mouth to complete the soft melody on his own. He loved that song, and refused to be without it.

"My dear boy,  
Day has end.  
Say good night,  
Rest my friend.

Owls sing,  
Nighttime songs.  
Close your eyes,  
And before long,

You'll drift away,  
Sweet warm rest.  
I pray you,  
Dream the best.

Embrace the night,  
And yes it's true,  
None loves you,  
Like I do."

It was childish. It was cliche. But he found it beautiful. And it belonged to him. Every word. Every chord. No one else's. Tomoki's song. The song his mother composed from her heart, just for him.

Days, weeks, months and years passed, and he had yet to again hear his precious lullaby. No matter how much he begged for even a taste of the sweet sound of his mother's voice, the answer he received was always the same.

"Your father wants you to start growing up a bit, Tomo. I can't treat you like a baby anymore. I still love you." As usual, he would nod down at his feet.

"I love you too." He spoke softly, waiting for her to pet his hair and walk away before shuffling up to his room and locking to door. He closed the curtains and shut off all the lights, pretending it was night outside. Then he would climb under the covers and close his eyes, before wetting his lips and opening his mouth to sing. Granted, his voice was nowhere near as angelic as his mother's, but it was something he considered to be incredibly close.

So he sung. He sung until his ribs ached. He sung until his throat dried. Until his head pounded. Until his voice cracked. His father wouldn't let him sing around the house. "Singing is for girls," he had said. This thought only made Tomoki sing louder. He didn't care how much his father hated him. If he wanted to sing, he would sing. He didn't care how old he was, or how ridiculous the song sounded to others. He loved this song. He loved his mother.

That's why, at the age of fifteen, his mother's death hit him the hardest. Her untimely passing was delivered due to an intoxicated driver, who believed driving into a fully packed coffee shop would be a fun source of entertainment. How unlucky it was for his mother to be one of the three who died in the accident. Who would've thought that something as innocent as sitting by a window to enjoy coffee would be dangerous?

Tomoki, heartbroken, stopped singing. He cried for days on end, breaking his nightly solo lullaby ritual. After a week had passed, he had realized he had stopped, but didn't continue. How could he continue tradition now that his mother was dead? It didn't feel right to him. The song had died that dreadful day, alongside his poor, unsuspecting mother.

Tomoki took on the role of "wife". He cleaned, cooked and shopped for him and his father. Everything was pushed onto him, and was now both stressed and depressed. He had gone from not ever showing signs of growing up, to growing up far too quickly. It was like he skipped a few steps in his life. His father was also deeply wounded by the loss of his wife, drinking more. She was his world, and he had no clue how to move on. He was too far gone for Tomoki to try and fix. When he had approached him for the first time about his unhealthy, alcoholic tendencies, he received a drunken smack across the face. He stumbled back, holding his stinging cheek as he looked up in shock at his father.

"What the Hell're ya doin' buggin' me for?" His words were slurred and his stance was wobbly, and his balled up fist looked ready to strike Tomoki again. "Don'chu know my wife is _dead? _Why won'cha just leave me alone ya unwanted little girl!" That didn't help his son's already low self esteem at all.

Tomoki didn't speak to his father after that. In fact, he didn't speak to anyone at all. And as always, none of the kids in his school offered their hand in friendship. Now a sophomore in high school, he had grown accustomed to the neglect, and didn't mind the solitude. Though he did miss the kindness and warmth of his mother, and wished to experience the same feeling with someone -anyone- else.

It seemed his entire life had turned around when he met Keiji. Keiji had seen the dead look in Tomoki's pink eyes, and offered himself as solace. At first, he was wary of the sudden offer, but he was so thrilled at the thought of someone _actually _wanting to be his friend, he had no choice but to smile softly and accept.

Months flew by, and Tomoki grew quite fond of his new friend. Keiji made him smile and laugh every day until the pain of his mother's passing diminished to almost nothing. He was glad he found someone he could be comfortable with, because he had more than a few things to get off his chest. Keiji listened intently as Tomoki told him his story from beginning to end. From the lullaby, to his mother, to his father's harsh parenting, to his history of neglect by his peers. Tomoki was so absorbed in his own story, he didn't realize that he was being led in the wrong direction.

He paused, stopping his walk to stare forward at the abandoned lot he found himself standing in. Footsteps were heard behind him, and he turned to face four guys -not much older than himself- walking in his and Keiji's direction. They all wore baggy pants and deep orange shirts, so he figured they were members of some sort of street gang. As Tomoki took a shy and fearful step back, Keiji went to converse with one of the members, sticking his thumb at Tomoki at one point. Tomoki blinked, incredibly confused at the situation he was in. He continued to step backwards as he was approached by the other three gang members, feeling something like a trapped rabbit about to be devoured by savage wolves.

"Keiji-kun?" His eyes grew slightly wider as he called out to his supposed friend, fear evident in his tone and face. He seemed to be incredible chummy with these people... Was he tricked? The response he received was incredibly casual, and a bit harsh. Nothing like the Keiji he was speaking to just moments ago.

"Just cough up your cash to these guys and run off. I don't need you any more. My initiation is complete." He grinned widely, giving himself a bit of an evil look. "But I gotta thank you. Because you're such a sweet, gullible, depressed little thing, you made for a good target."

The males ganging up on Tomoki got closer, as he could do nothing but stand there, giving Keiji a hurt look. He was just using him to get into a gang? He had confessed everything he had kept pent up, and this is what happened immediately afterwards? He stayed motionless as the gang members all threatened him impatiently.

"I...thought we were friends..." He said this quietly, looking down at his feet. Annoyed at this answer, their hot-headed leader pushed his underlings out of the way, walking briskly up to Tomoki and punching him with enough force to knock him to the ground.

"Are you stupid or something? What kind of baby nonsense is that? Just fork over your money already!" Tomoki refused, standing and dusting himself off.

"I only give money to charities, not cowards who have to gang up on defenseless people to make a living."

The members of the violent group obviously weren't expecting that brave remark from the meek little boy. They stood in temporary silence, taken aback, before their shock turned to rage. Shouts to stab him and slit his throat filled the air, along with other crude suggestions to cause him bodily harm. Listening to his followers, the leader flipped out his switchblade, pointing it menacingly at Tomoki. Of course, he didn't want any of those options to come to life, so he said what he thought was necessary to remove himself from the situation.

"I don't believe you have the heart to actually cause harm to someone with that, so I'll be taking my leave. I'm sorry you have to live this way." He bowed respectfully before passing the leader to walk home. If anyone else tried to stop him, he knew he was fast enough to escape. However, what happened next was something he couldn't expect to dodge.

Taking his comment as an insult, the gang leader flung his knife in a spur-of-the-moment rage, tired of being talked down to. It hit home, sinking into the departing back of Tomoki, puncturing his lung. Tomoki spat up blood, arching his back forward before dropping like a rock onto the hard concrete. His wound bled profusely, soaking and staining the back of his school uniform. He twitched and gasped for air, a high-pitched cry escaping him as he felt the knife being ripped mercilessly from his back. The gang ran as fast as they could out of the lot, leaving poor Tomoki to bleed to death.

_No...I don't want to die..._

Tears slid down his face as he coughed up more blood. The world blurred, now nothing but a blinding white.

"M-my dear...boy..."

White.

"Day...has end..."

White.

"Say...g-goodnight..."

White.

"Family...friends..."

Black.

This was Tomoki Masuoji. And this is the song that killed him.


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up in the morning is the single most difficult thing for Tomoki to do. After falling asleep to the sweet sound of his mother's voice, he hated rising to another pointless day of dealing with cruel peers and a neglecting father. It'd be at least another twelve hours before he would be back in bed, humming along to his lullaby. So he'd stay in bed as long as he could manage, closing the distance between morning and night. Unlike most who wished for longer days, he wished for shorter ones.

But as he groaned and began to regain consciousness, he realized he wasn't lying in his soft warm bed, but rather, hard, bumpy concrete. His ears rang painfully, and dots obscured his vision. Becoming slightly annoyed, he rubbed his eyes. Looking up, he could recognize the deep orange of the evening sky, dark cloud wisps slowly floating nowhere. As the world slowly became clearer, his hearing returned as well. Sirens and loud talking and shouting reached him, and he sat up quickly, alarmed. Cop cars and ambulances were everywhere, paramedics and officers and potential witnesses decorating the scene before him. He stood slowly, looking around frantically for some type of explanation.

Walking over to a passing officer, he attempted to question the situation, softly tapping his shoulder.

"Excuse me, sir, could you tell me what's going on?" His soft voice mustn't have reached the man's ears over the noise, because he continued walking, scratching the spot on his shoulder that Tomoki touched. Raising the volume of his voice slightly, he tried again. "Excuse me, officer, please wait!" But the policeman never once stopped of looked back.

Deciding that the man was either terribly busy or just plain rude, Tomoki went to find out for himself what had happened, and maybe discover why he found himself waking up somewhere other than his bed. He walked over to the crowd of EMT's, who were all speaking to police officers or other EMT's. He pushed through the crowd towards the back of an ambulance, figuring he might get a clue there.

But what he found was nothing he wanted to see, nor was it something he ever believed he would see in his lifetime. A stretcher was being pushed towards the ambulance, a body wrapped in a black plastic bag. As it passed by Tomoki, he saw that part of it was unzipped, and showed the face of the poor soul who had died. It took him only a second to recognize the face.

He screamed, backing away from the stretcher, and the body who laid cold and motionless on top of it. _This can't be true... This isn't real! _The face he saw was none other than his own. He recognized the dark blue hair, and the rounded face that was much like his mother's. But it couldn't be. He was standing right here, wasn't he? He turned a complete 360, as if turning in circles would fix the whole situation. No one seemed to be affected by Tomoki's scream. In fact, they acted as if he wasn't there at all.

"That isn't me! I'm right here! That isn't me!" He shouted at an EMT, pointing a finger at the ambulance now driving off with the body. The man ignored him, continuing his morbid conversation with the woman next to him. "Why aren't you listening?! Please! That isn't me!" He still wasn't heard.

He turned scanning the area for anyone who appeared kind enough to listen. In the midst of his search, a ray of hope shined before him. His father stood merely feet away, speaking with a police officer. He ran over to them, shouting for his father.

"Father! Father! I'm here! I'm-" The conversation he walked into stopped him, causing him to stop dead in his tracks.

"He's been dead for over five hours at least. We're lucky we got to him before the rats did." Tomoki looked up at them in disbelief, taking in shaky breaths. _They...they can't be talking about me... _His father sighed heavily, running a hand through his already mussed hair. With a thumb, he scratched over his eyebrow, something Tomoki noticed he did before about to tell a lie.

"I really loved him. After my wife died, Tomo was all I had left. Now...I just..." He inhaled sharply, as if trying to stop himself from crying. Tomoki took a step back, shaking his head incredulously at him.

"You're a liar...you never wanted me..." He attempted to stop another passerby by reaching to grab her arm. "Please, tell them I'm not-!" She made a startled squeak when he touched her, spinning to jerk her arm away. She looked around for the potential pervert who attempted to grab at her, but she saw no one. Confused -and slightly scared- she continued walking.

Tomoki wanted to scream. He wanted to run. Run home to his mother. To have her hold him and sing to him and make everything normal again. Why was this happening to him? Why is everyone pretending not to see him? He was right there! Right in front of everyone! _Open your eyes! _Why is everyone saying he's dead?

Then it hit him. It struck him all at once like a smack to the face. Keiji. The gang. The knife in his back. So much blood... His hands flew to his back, feeling for the wound. To his surprise, there was no cut, no gash, no evidence that he had ever been stabbed. His heart beat wildly, and he reached a hand up to his chest.

Feeling something hard and cold underneath his fingers in place of the fabric of his jacket startled him, causing him to jump slightly. He looked down at his chest, startled to find a chain attached to him. It wasn't necessarily long, only having about ten or eleven links, but that doesn't change the fact that it was something that shouldn't be there. He lifted the chain up by the last link, eyeing it suspiciously.

"What is this doing here...? Ow!" He let the chain drop, feeling a slight tug on his chest as he did so. He looked at his finger, alarmed to see bite marks. Upon closer inspection of the chain, his eyes widened. Tiny mouths covered the last link, and they worked furiously to eat away at the metal. He reacted quickly, tugging on the chain as hard as he could. He had to get this off! The pain was excruciating, bringing tears to his eyes. After about a minute of hopelessly tugging on the mysterious chain, he let his arms go limp. He breathed heavily, letting the tears fall as he watched everyone drive or walk away.

He was really dead. There was no denying what happened. There was no denying what he saw. He was gone. He was nonexistent. He no longer mattered.

But then again, did he ever really matter? He lived for his mother. No one else. He had no friends. No other family he knew of. Why did he continue living after she died? Because she would want him to. But now that he's dead, should he really be all that upset? He had no future. College? A job? All things that are far too average. He wasn't special. But he would never get the chance to try to be either.

He sat in that lot for days on end. Never hungry. Never fatigued. How long has he been sitting there, watching the moon and sun rise and fall? He stared hopelessly at the stained concrete, as if something was going to change. He wanted to go somewhere, but where would he go? What purpose would that serve? Who or what did he expect to find out there? He noticed he had lost a link to his chain, and new mouths formed on the next one. What would happen to him once all the chains were gone? Should he wait to find out? Should he try and stop it? Maybe he'll just lay there and try to fade away or something...

"La la la...hm hm hm...la da da...da da da..." He began humming to himself gently, trying to comfort himself. What was he singing again? Oh right...the lullaby... What were the words again? He hadn't sung for what seemed like weeks.

Before he could dwell any further on the subject, the ground seemed to shake underneath him. He stood quickly, looking around for the source of the quaking. _This can't be an earthquake, can it? They don't stop randomly like this... _Shivers ran up and down his spine as everything stopped. No sound. No vibrations. Just an eerie silence. Something didn't feel right to the boy. The shaking began again, only this time, growing louder and more frequent by the second. _Footsteps?_

The brick wall before him suddenly exploded, bricks and dust flying at him. He held up his arms to protect his head and face, sucking in a pained breath when a piece of brick slammed right into his forearm. As he began to look up to see the cause of the exploding wall, he was knocked off his feet by a powerful and incredibly large hand, sending him flying across the street. He lied on the sidewalk, his head pounding. He opened his eyes to see the outline of an immense creature stalking towards him. His blinked multiple time for clearer vision, scrambling up to his feet.

_What in the world...is that?! _A monster at least twelve feet high was before him, a sickening gray color. He wasn't sure what he was hit with could be accurately describe as a hand, as it only had three fingers. It had a gaping hole in it's chest, and wore a frightening mask. As it grew nearer still, it finally registered in Tomoki's mind that he was endangered, and he ran. Hearing and feeling the pavement tremble again helped him to discover the monster was chasing him. He ran faster.

"Help! Somebody help me!" He screamed out desperately, even though he was perfectly aware he would remain unheard. Was he going to die a second time? By the hands of this...this _thing? _No...he refused to suffer through death a second time! He glanced back briefly, terrified to see the beast getting incredibly close. It raised a giant fist to strike Tomoki, and he had no choice but to dive right into an alleyway to escape. Debris flew up from where the monster struck the ground, and Tomoki backed fearfully into a wall. He was trapped. The monster walked toward him, his steps tortuously slow. Was it planning to drag out this horrid experience as long as it could? It finally made it to him, it's mouth opening wide. Behind it's fence of saliva, Tomoki saw another mouth, almost vomiting at the sight.

He squeezed his eyes shut. If this was how he was going to die, he didn't want to see it. He felt it's hot breath on his face, and he flinched away, attempting to sing into the bricks he was pressed against. He braced for death, for unimaginable pain, but nothing came. A cool breeze blew away the disgusting mouth odor that clogged his nose, and he slowly opened his eyes.

Through the head of the terrifying creature, the blade of a sword glinted in the sunlight. The monster began to turn black, dissipating as it did so. Behind the creature stood a man wearing a black shihakushou, his sword's sheath dangling at his hip. Tomoki was struck speechless, stuttering dumbly as he bowed at the man.

"Th-thank you so much for saving me!" He heard a soft chuckle, and looked up at the stranger, who simply pet his head with a warm hand.

"It was my pleasure, now please stand upright." Doing as he was told, he straightened his posture, tensing slightly when the man brought the hilt of his sword to his forehead. Pressing the base of it against his head firmly, it began to glow a bright, light blue color, causing blasts of wind to surround the both of them.

Tomoki felt his skin tingle and prick, both ticklish and bothersome at the same time. What was going on? Was he going to die again? Did this man slay the monster just to be able to kill Tomoki himself? But why? He didn't do a single thing to anyone! This isn't fair! He doesn't deserve this!

Sensing the boy's panic, the man smiled. That smile seemed to melt Tomoki's worries away, and he instantly calmed. _He doesn't seem to be the bad guy at all..._

"Calm down, okay? You're going to a better place. Just close your eyes, and when you open them, you'll be safe." Trusting the man, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

In a flash of light, Tomoki was gone, and in his place, a beautiful black butterfly.


	3. Chapter 3

Tomoki's head pounded in an array of nonrhythmic thuds. It started off heavy and painful, but soon dulled into nothing more than bothersome pushes in the back of his skull. His eyes opened slowly to welcome sunlight and small crowds of people moving all around him. He looked around at the foreign village he found himself standing in the middle of. Everything looked worn. People, houses, shops. Women, men and children all wearing filthy, dully-colored kimonos, and all architecture looking ready to collapse at any given moment.

Tomoki looked around shyly at the passing townspeople. He wanted to say something to them, but wasn't sure if they'd hear him, or what he'd say, even if they did. So he started to walk. He walked and hummed softly to himself, taking in the sight of the dilapidated town. No one looked very friendly, just children running around, and adults arguing with each other. Now and again he'd catch a glimpse of someone nabbing an apple or a loaf of bread from one of the little setups.

He sighed. _Where am I? _Looking down, he realized he no longer had the chain on his chest. He fisted at the cloth on his shirt, letting out a relieved breath. At least that was gone. Tomoki decided it was time to figure out where it was he had magically ended up. He went and tapped a finger on an older mans shoulder, hoping he would feel it, unlike the policeman from before. (Yesterday? Days ago? He couldn't keep track of time anymore.) He looked friendly enough. Well, compared to the other residents of this town, that is. That assumption was far from accurate. Once the boy dared lay his hand on the man, he turned, a low growl coming from deep within his chest.

"What the hell do you want?" He snarled rudely at the bluenette. A bit startled at this, Tomoki took a step back, respectfully. He bowed his head.

"P-pardon me...I was wondering if you could tell me where I am." The man let out an over-annoyed sigh, fully turning his body towards Tomoki.

"Listen kid, this is District 62, South Rukongai. With a pathetic personality like that, yer gonna get eaten alive here. You better toughen up. And find a change of clothes. Yer like a walking target." With that, he turned to walk away. Tomoki's attention was directed towards his cracked, dry feet. Now that he thought about it, no one here wore footwear. He looked down at his own sneakers, suddenly very self-conscious.

He glanced around, shivers running down his spine at the multiple people sending hateful glares his way. He looked at the distinct difference between his and everyone else's outfits. He does stick out like a sore thumb, doesn't he? He tried keeping his head down, walking quickly through the streets of the village. He has to find something else to wear. Something that looks like everyone else. The hard and evil stares were starting to make him uncomfortable.

Hours passed, and his feet began to throb from the nonstop walking. He could feel the blisters, and could only imagine how his feet would look had he been without his sneakers. A soft sigh passed through his lips. It was dark now, and he could barely see his hand in front of his face. So hot...he needed to sit down. No chairs. He couldn't help to suppress a second sigh.

He leaned against a house, gentle, as if it would crumble against his additional weight, though it wasn't much. He slid down to the ground and pulled his knees up to his chest. He hasn't been here twenty four hours, yet he already hated it. It was nerve-wrecking to be here. He felt like he always needed to be on his guard.

The world around him suddenly began to blur. He hadn't realized he was so tired until he sat down to rest. So tired...so tired...

Deep pink eyes began to slowly shut, imagining a life different from this one. Or, rather, a death different from this one. Either way, he wasn't here right now, in this disgusting town, full of people who hated each other. He was at home, with parents who loved him, and a song...

A song... What was that song? With minimal effort, he searched his brain for the lyrics, the melody, the beat, _anything._

He drew a blank, and fell into darkness.

The morning sun beat on Tomoki's porcelain skin without mercy, turning him an odd shade of pink. As the navy haired boy began to wake, it slowly registered to him that his body was on fire. He jolted to consciousness, every showing bit of him aching under the cruel rays of the sun. He stood quickly, running to the shade of the alleys. He placed a hand over his washboard stomach, grimacing under his own touch.

Wait...

_Where are my clothes?! _Tomoki looked down at his bare chest and legs before looking around himself frantically, as if expecting his missing articles of clothing to appear at his feet. Robbed blind in the dead of night and left there to burn. The residents of this village really are cruel.

He ran a hand through his hair, biting down on his lip. What was he supposed to do? He was so exposed... He didn't want to be a victim to anyone else. He crept through the alley, reasoning that this was no time to use reason. He had to do what he had to to fit in. To survive. Lowering himself to petty thievery, he grabbed a dimly-colored orange kimono that was hanging on a line. It was a bit big, and still damp, but he was in no position to complain. He slid on the kimono, tying the obi tightly. Hopefully he'd be able to feel it if someone tried to steal his clothes again.

Luckily, he was able to keep that kimono for about four more weeks. Though, by that time, it became even dingier than when he found it, and the smell was becoming almost unbearable.

He grew to notice that most of the townspeople had this rancid smell to them. He would be appalled if he himself didn't reek like rotten eggs and wet dog.

He ate sparingly. He refused to become more of a thief, and literally fed off the scraps people dropped on the ground, which wasn't as often as he'd like. He was so hungry, and the constant heat of the South Rukongai climate wasn't making things any better for the winter-born child. His head pounded, and he was panting like a wounded animal. He was malnourished and fatigued. He wasn't sure if he would last much longer. He was alone out here. There was really nothing he could do but lie down and await death again. He was tired of this. Tired of dying. When could he live a normal life again?

All of a sudden, he felt a sudden pressure bring him down to a knee, as if the entire town had just been covered by a thick, heavy blanket. The townspeople must've felt it too, because they quickly stood, running to the closest shelter. The ones that had the strength to stand, that is.

Tomoki was one of the lucky ones. He also stood and ran, though he wasn't sure what he was running from. Wasn't he just prepared to die? Apparently, his heart refused to agree with the choices of his mind. His body jerked into action all at once, and he found himself pushing through the large crowd in the street.

A roar rang in his ears, one unlike the call of a lion or bear. It was more like a grating sound. Fingernails against a chalkboard. It resonated in his skull, amplifying his migraine. It sounded so familiar...

Then it hit him.

It sounded just like the screams of the monster from that day. The thought sent shivers through him. There were more? How many more? Were they all the same? Were they all about to die? Tears sprung in his eyes, and he urged his aching body to run faster. He didn't want to die. Not like this. Torn to bits by those claws, chewed and crunched by those layers of teeth... No...he wouldn't go down like this!

More screams reached him. The screams of people. The screams of unfortunate souls who were too slow to evade the grasp of the monster.

A man running next to him cried out in fear at the sounds, frantic -_desperate- _to live. Tomoki was too slow to see the extended leg, too slow to register that his own safety route had been sabotaged to ensure the safety of another's. He came crashing to the ground, the impact causing dirt to jump and settle in the air. Tomoki skidded to a halt, his face and forearms scratched by the small pebbles that poorly made up the road.

He felt the pressure in the air rise to an almost suffocating high, and he had trouble forcing himself on two legs. He looked up and almost screamed at the sickening sight. Behind him lay a road of casualties. Many bodies missing limbs, and more commonly, limbs missing bodies. He returned to the ground, the shock of the scene weakening his legs.

_"Here he is..." _A raspy, deep voice filled the silence, and Tomoki's head snapped towards the roof of a nearby building, his eyes widening to see a monster hanging off the house and looking in his direction. It's body was long, like a serpent, thin arms sprouting from the sides. Sharp talons formed the hands, made for shredding skin. _"This was the one I smelled."_

Tomoki wasn't sure if he should be more offended than terrified. But he chose fear as several more similar-looking monsters began appearing from behind the houses.

_"Mm...he does smell delicious..."_

_"His spiritual pressure is much higher than the others."_

_"He'll definitely make a tasty snack!"_

Tomoki couldn't keep up with the conversation. Delicious? He smelled horrible! And what's spiritual pressure? He didn't understand, nor did he wish to stick around long enough to find out. He urged his body upright, and started to run once more. He could hear the demeaning cackles of the monsters behind him.

_"Look at him run!"_

_"He certainly is dragging this out longer than necessary..."_

The ground rumbled beneath him, leading him to believe he was being chased. He squeezed his eyes shut and ran faster. _No! No! No! I don't want to go through this again!_

"Help! Someone, _help me!_" He cried out in desperation, although knowing no one in this God forsaken town would be kind enough to sacrifice themselves for him.

More pressure began to beat down on poor Tomoki. It was heavier than the weight of the monsters, and he could feel himself slowing down. No...he had to keep going...he had to...he had-

Darkness. In the distance, the faint sound of metal being drawn, slicing the air. A sword...?

When he came to, he found himself in a horse-drawn carriage, surrounded by men wearing shihaikushou, much like the one his savior wore when he first encountered one of those masked monsters. He sat up, his brain still pounding inside his skull.

"Ah...he's awake." Bread and riceballs were stuck in Tomoki's face, which he was more than happy to take. "Eat up."

"Th-thank you!" He truly couldn't express his gratitude enough as he ate what was given to him. After eating an entire riceball, he wiped his mouth of crumbs before speaking. "U-uhm...where are we going?"

One of the men looked down at him, a somewhat amused expression on his face.

"You see, you have high spiritual pressure, which is what attracted all those hollows to you. It's that spiritual pressure that gives you the potential to become a Shinigami. One of us. So, we're bringing you to the Shinigami Academy. There, we'll see if you really have what it takes."

* * *

**Ah, thanks so much if ya stuck around this long! I really appreciate it. I've been updating so slowly cause I still don't have a clue who I'm gonna pair Tomoki with. -sigh- I'm a hopeless case. If y'have any suggestions, I'll be happy t'hear them~!**


End file.
